


Just Might Find 2

by helens78, Telesilla



Series: Just Might Find [5]
Category: Equilibrium (2002) RPF
Genre: Kink, M/M, Orgasm Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-28
Updated: 2005-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bill and Sean's first scene together, Sean sends a thank-you note, an email listing some of his likes and dislikes as a sub, and then spends a nice morning in bed thinking about seeing Bill again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Might Find 2

_a quick thank-you note sent to Bill Fichtner's suite at the Est_

 

_Thanks for a damned good afternoon and evening, sir. Looking forward to next time._

\--Sean

* * *

To: bill.fichtner@establishment.rpg  
From: sean.bean@establishment.rpg  
Subject: Lists of five

Sir,

I'm looking forward to Saturday already, sir. The list of things I like was easy -- could've added a dozen more -- but thinking of things I don't like was much more difficult. I was trying to avoid stock answers ("scat, bestiality") but there are relatively few things I wouldn't do. Hope the lists are satisfactory -- let me know if you need anything else from me.

\--Sean

Five things I really don't care for:  
* Cages/sleepsacks/full head hoods -- anything that hits a claustrophobia nerve.  
* The "ball" aspect of CBT. I'm fine with cock bondage and torture, but don't care for it on my balls.  
* Modeling/slutty clothing -- exhibitionism itself is fine, but I'm not "pretty" and feel out-of-place on that particular sort of display.  
* I'm running out of non-stock answers for this. The real problem is I come up with things that don't sound good (clinical medical exam?) and can think of a half-dozen scenarios where it might be hot. Um. Foot worship. Can't think of a way to make foot worship hot.  
* Pony play -- it's the only animal roleplay I've run into that does nothing for me.

Five things I really like:  
* Fisting. Experience: Quite a lot. Interest: More than quite a lot.  
* Gates of Hell.  
* Nipple clamps. Or clothespins. Or zippers. Or all of the above...  
* Canes, crops, things in that area.  
* Cutting/knifework, but this is what I was thinking when I asked if you were looking at stuff I'm ready to do -- I had a bad scene involving knives a couple years back and I'm still not comfortable with them yet.

* * *

 

  
It's morning and Sean's hard.

That's not unusual. In fact, that's routine. He wakes up hard nearly every morning, and sometimes he gets up, struggles out of the tangle of covers and pads into the bathroom, waiting for the morning erection to go down enough for him to take a leak, then brush his teeth, shower, make the bed with military precision and go downstairs to make breakfast.

Sometimes he wakes up and stays flat on his stomach, one hand between his legs, fingers rubbing over his balls, legs spreading apart before he starts the slow, even strokes that get him off.

Then there's the mornings when he turns over on his back and turns his head to the side, teeth sunk hard into his upper arm, hand around his cock, groans buried in his own skin as he leaves bruises and shuts his eyes tight and keeps going, minute passing minute and time losing meaning as he squeeze-strokes and drives himself out of his mind. The sweat builds up on his neck and at the base of his spine and sooner or later he'll spread his legs and bend his knees and wish someone were here to fuck him, shove his arm away from his teeth and his hand away from his cock and pin him flat and fuck him raw.

But it's Friday. He got the email yesterday. The scene's tomorrow. He's snug in the middle of that 48 hours and there's no fucking way he gets to come now.

So he stays on his stomach, both arms slowly coming up to stretch above his head, curling his fingers around the bedrails as he spreads his legs wide.

_Imagine._

Tuesday's scene. Feeling warm. And good. And safe.

His hips start working. His cock finds a fold in the sheets under him, glides past it, friction altogether too satisfying as he starts thrusting.

_Can't come now. Don't get to._

He knows. But he can't help it. So good. Tuesday. _Tomorrow._ Tomorrow he'll get more pain and more orders and when the scene's over he'll have someone he can curl up with and let his guard down for. He doesn't have to be strong and stoic and pretend everything's all right in his world.

_I could shatter if you'd push me._

Hips working faster now, hands coming off the rails, one arm bent in front of him to hold his chest up off the bed, the other going to one of his nipple rings. Hard twist left, hard enough his teeth grit together and he chokes a scream through them. _Fuck._ He could come from that if he were inclined to.

_If I had permission._

The images are coming faster now. Some of them aren't even visual; some of them are words, sounds. Bill's voice through the filter of a phone line telling him to drop to his knees _right now_ even if _right now_ is in the middle of making lunch. On his knees in the kitchen with Bill telling him to jerk off, ordering him to keep his mouth wide open and give him every single noise that Sean wants to make.

Getting close and backing off. Not once. Not twice. Enough times that he'd lose count and feel as if he were going mad. Enough times his vision would blur and he'd cry and beg and still it wouldn't be enough to cut through the sincere, solid certainty on the other end of the line.

He could wind up a begging, pleading mess on his knees on the kitchen floor and if Bill said _good boy_ before clicking off he'd feel so goddamned _clean_\--

"--oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck--"

He stops short, panting, hips pressed hard against the mattress.

"Fuck."

And flips over, one arm flung over his eyes, the other hand twisted hard into the covers while his cock throbs.

"Nnngh."

It's a good twenty minutes before his heartbeat slows and he catches his breath and his hard-on's gone down enough that he can even think about getting out of bed.

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> Helens wrote this without any help from Telesilla.


End file.
